ali crockett

with the iron glockenspiels tied to her feet and minutes to spare before the tumorous and fiery clouds consumed the adriatic, the lady crockett sank into an aquatic body of musical parrotry and landed on a grand piano (it had been abandoned a century before by the baron contianarielli upon discovering that they were to arrive one day late to the festivities due to extra weight in the hull.) once the earth's surface had stabilized and it was certainly safe to venture upwards again, out of the depths of classical theory and orchestral inclinations she surfaced, and floated ashore clutching a guitar born in the year of the church of satan, it was coincidence most likely, but not so as to the propensity toward absurdity of lyric -- that was quite intentional.

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